THIS LOVE - chapter two | the lights are so bright but they never blind me
pairing: ben chilwell x reader
rating: T
word count: 2.1k
summary: you have to adjust to life in the public eye as ben’s supposed girlfriend...and ben has to adjust to the sight of you wearing his chelsea kit to a game
A/N: thanks for more lovely messages, they really encourage me to update faster lol! i’m sorry this one’s a bit shorter, the next update will definitely be longer 😌 chapter title is from welcome to New York
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The morning after the gala, you wake up in Ben’s guest room feeling relaxed and refreshed.
You always seem to get a better sleep when you stay at his, though you’re not sure if that’s due to his comfy mattress and expensive sheets or the fact that he lives out in Cobham and it’s significantly quieter than your own flat.
This state of relaxation lasts for about five minutes, or until you get a text from your friend Valerie asking if you’ve been on Twitter today.
Bracing yourself, you open the app and already see Ben’s name trending.
You’ve gained some followers over the years when Ben has posted you on his socials, but it’s nothing compared to the way people are currently talking about you all over the internet.
It’s not just on Twitter - your Instagram following count has already grown exponentially, and your comments are filled with everything under the sun, from praise to cruelty.
You know Ben gets shit like this all the time, and Mia warned you it would be coming your way, but it’s still surreal to read about yourself online.
Especially when none of it is true. Even the nice tweets about what a lovely couple you make are based on a lie.
You can’t resist going down the rabbit hole for a few minutes, reading pages of tweets from Ben’s fans speculating about your relationship, some negative and some positive. Eventually, you can feel your brain starting to hurt, and you know it’s in your best interest to shut your phone off for a while.
Begrudgingly, you force yourself to get out of bed and face the day. You make your way downstairs in your pyjamas, stretching your arms out as you enter the kitchen.
Ben is already awake, like he usually is at this time, and he’s standing by the stove in joggers and an old Nike sweatshirt, flipping pancakes that you know are not a part of his diet plan.
“Pancakes?” you question, startling Ben a bit as he turns to face you.
“Morning,” he says with a small smile. “Yeah, with blueberries. They’re for you. Figured it’s the least I could do since-“
“Since I’m being torn apart online by football fans?” you joke - or, at least, you mean it as a joke.
Ben’s face falls, his eyes wide with concern, and he sets down the spatula to walk over to you.
“I am so sorry, Y/N,” he says seriously. “I didn’t know it would be like this. I’ve obviously never had a real girlfriend before, so I didn’t think about it.”
“Ben, it’s-”
“I called Shreya as soon as I saw everything and had her prepare an exit strategy, she’s already confirmed our relationship to the press but she thinks we can back out of it if-“
“Ben,” you say a bit more firmly, placing a hand on his arm. “Why would we need to back out of this? Does she not think it’s working?”
Ben just blinks at you for a moment before shaking his head. “Well, no, actually. Apparently I’m getting great press from it, and you’re the one getting all the shitty comments. But I-”
“I’m fine with it, then,” you shrug. “I’ll just make my Instagram private, you know I don’t really care about social media anyways. I’ll be fine.”
Ben still doesn’t look convinced.
“Are you sure? I hate the thought of you having to read that crap,” he mumbles. “I’m used to the pricks, but you shouldn’t have to be.”
“It’s fine, Ben, I swear,” you insist, squeezing his shoulder. “Actually, some of your fans seem to like me. Or they like that I supposedly keep you grounded or whatever bullshit Shreya fed the press.”
“Well, that part���s not total bullshit,” Ben says with a small smile that makes your cheeks flush slightly. “Thank you again for doing this. And you can still change your mind at any time, you know.”
“I know,” you say, mirroring his smile. “Now hurry up before you burn my pancakes.”
“Oh, shit!”
-
By the next weekend, you’ve gotten pretty used to “dating” Ben.
You go private on your socials as you discussed, with the official statement from Ben’s publicist being that you two ask for privacy as a new couple. Naturally, this only makes everyone more interested, including the media.
As Shreya hoped, the headlines now describe Ben as a “man in love” and someone ready to “settle down with a nice girl.” There are tabloid articles with pictures of you two - some from before you were even pretending to date - and all the information they could dig up on you, including your job.
It’s all a bit weird, but the weirdest part is definitely when you have to actually corroborate your story of being Ben’s girlfriend. Which, as far as everyone outside your inner circle is concerned, you now are.
It definitely feels strange lying when, for example, one of the doctors you work with congratulates you on your relationship. (Turns out her son is a Chelsea fan and she wants to know if you could ask him to sign a kit or something, which you promise to make happen.)
You’re relieved when the only event you have to attend this weekend is Ben’s game, which you would’ve gone to anyways. You’re also going with his sister Alex, who is obviously in on the whole thing, which makes it easier.
She meets you at your flat, which is conveniently only about ten minutes away from Stamford Bridge on the tube, an hour before the game.
After you tightly embrace Ben’s sister, who is like a younger sister to you as well, she grins and passes you a small gift bag.
“You got me a present?” you ask in confusion.
“It’s not from me, it’s from Ben,” she chuckles. “He also said to say he’s sorry and that it was Shreya’s idea.”
You open the bag and pull out a familiar article of clothing - a brand new Chelsea shirt with Ben’s name on the back.
Of course, as Ben’s girlfriend, it would make sense that you be wearing his kit.
“Oh, god, let me go change.”
Once you’ve replaced the plain blue t-shirt you were wearing with the shirt Ben sent over, you walk back out and find Alex with an amused look on her face.
“How do I look?” you ask a bit sarcastically as you do a twirl.
“Like a proper WAG,” Alex laughs. “Let’s go, my future sister-in-law.”
You groan as Alex grabs you by the arm and you depart for the match.
Although you’ve come to see Ben play at the Bridge more times than you can count, you have never felt this many eyes on you as you make your way to your seats. There are people not-so-subtly taking your photo as you walk up, probably made all the worse by the Chilwell kit you have on - though you suppose that’s the point.
The match begins, and you cheer at the top of your lungs for Chelsea, just as you have from the day Ben signed for them. You never really cared that much about football, and you didn’t support any particular club growing up, but you’ve always been Ben’s number one fan.
Today, he’s playing well, making you as proud as ever. It’s not hard to pretend to be the supportive girlfriend when every flawless pass or run forward has you leaping out of your seat with unrestrained enthusiasm.
At half-time, Chelsea are up by 1 against Newcastle, and you and Alex are happily chatting and catching up over a beer.
“I saw all the pics of you guys at the gala on Twitter,” Alex says with a smirk on her face, lowering her voice so nobody overhears. “I know it’s weird to say since you’re basically part of the family, but you actually look quite good together.”
“Ew, Alex, there’s no way,” you insist, a slight blush creeping onto your cheeks. “He’s…Ben.”
Alex just laughs and drops the subject as the game resumes and the boys come back out of the tunnel.
Around the 85th minute, with the score now tied 1-1, Ben comes running up the side and makes an excellent pass to Conor, who scores and secures the win. You jump out of your seats to cheer as the guys celebrate on the pitch, you rolling your eyes with affection as Ben and Conor jump up and down with excitement.
The whistle blows shortly after with Chelsea leaving victorious, and you and Alex make your way down to the tunnels to meet up with Ben. With this being their fourth win in a row, the atmosphere at the Bridge is electric, a far cry from last year’s rough season.
It’s so nice to see Ben so happy again, and the smile on his face only seems to grow tenfold when he spots you and Alex making your way over to him.
You can’t resist picking up your pace to a light jog as you move toward him, and his arms are already open to pull you into a tight hug that lifts your feet off the ground and makes your heart soar in a similar fashion.
“That assist was brilliant,” you murmur into his shoulder before he sets you down.
Ben pulls away, still beaming at you, his sweaty hair curled down over his forehead.
“Thanks, Y/N,” he smiles, his eyes wandering to the shirt you’d almost forgotten you were wearing.
It’s not the first time you’ve worn his kit - his England debut and the Champions League final come to mind - but those were special occasions, with the rest of his friends and family wearing it too. This is obviously different, and although Ben sent it over for you to wear, his eyes are locked to you like he’s trying to memorize every thread of the fabric.
You can’t figure out why he seems so transfixed, but you don’t have much time to dwell on it before you’re interrupted.
Alex clears her throat, snapping Ben out of whatever trance he was in, and he pulls her in for a hug.
“So, to celebrate the win and Ben’s assist, I’m thinking he should take us out for a nice dinner?” Alex suggests, smiling and nudging your arm.
“Shouldn’t you be buying me dinner?” Ben raises an eyebrow. When you both just laugh, he rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Alright. I’ll go shower, you make a reservation somewhere.”
After you and Alex have picked out the fanciest-looking sushi place you could find online and collected Ben from the changing rooms, you make your way to his car. Just like after every game, the paparazzi are out trying to get videos and photos of the players leaving the stadium.
This time, however, most of the attention seems to be directed at you.
The lights begin to flash the moment you exit the building, and Ben reaches down to take your hand without a second of hesitation. Whether it’s to flaunt your “relationship” further or just to comfort you, you’re not sure, but it’s definitely working either way.
“Y/N, did you enjoy the match today?”
You know you don’t have to answer any of their questions, but you’d rather not be branded as cold or rude as the media loves to do when a woman ignores them.
So you squeeze Ben’s hand and nod, smiling at the man recording you.
“Of course, the team played really well.”
“And what did you think of Ben’s performance?” they fire back at you.
“He was amazing,” you say without missing a beat. “I always love watching him on the pitch.”
You can see Ben smiling at you as you speak - a genuine smile that you know has nothing to do with the cameras surrounding you - but he startles you slightly when he leans in to peck your cheek and lets his lips linger there for a moment. They’re soft and warm against your skin, and you feel significantly colder when they pull away.
You’ve clearly spurred on the media even more with this sudden display of affection, but Ben begins to pull you along with him and help you into the car before either of you has to answer any more questions.
You breathe out a sigh of relief as you settle into the passenger seat, Ben and Alex entering the car moments later.
“Nice show, you two,” Alex laughs, obviously still amused by the sight of you and Ben pretending to be a couple.
“You okay, Y/N?” Ben asks, looking over at you. “Sorry if the cheek kiss was too much. I know it’s a bit awkward.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you assure him, rolling your eyes. “It’s fine. Of course it’s gonna be awkward sometimes, but as long as it’s helping with the PR plan, right?”
Ben nods gratefully and smiles at you once more before asking Alex for directions to the sushi place.
You’re grateful for her chatting away about how hungry she is, and for the song Ben is playing loudly through the speakers as you drive to the restaurant, both of which are helping to distract you from how alarmingly not awkward this all feels.
A/N: let me know what your thoughts are after this chapter!! things start to heat up in the next one i promise ;)
tag list: @lunamelona @kathb59 @captainwans @amandaaa1025 @bbygrlllllll @cinderellawithashoe @batmansb1tch @ncentic (let me know if you would like to be added!)
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